blossoms
by nightfall26
Summary: in which two souls speak to one another through the subtle language of flowers. somehow, things were always going to be this way. they just didn't know it yet. [lilac prompt from zutara week 2016]


_blossoms._

 _in which Katara & Zuko find each other.  
_

 _disclaimer: I don't own ATLA._

* * *

 _white tulip; forgiveness._

* * *

Her mouth wide with a scream; hands reaching towards him blindly as he falls, scorched, singed, burning. Blue flames lick the ground around her and she is forced to move, but her eyes keep returning to the fallen body of the firebender. He twitches once, twice; listless. And then he is still.

 _"Zuko!"_

She hardly fears for her own life now. Her heartbeat pounding wetly against her rib cage, all of her fear is for _**him.**_ All of her rage is for him, for her people, for her family. For that lives that were destroyed. She gives no quarter; her ice is without mercy.

The mad princess is bound, now, soaked to the skin and wailing. The cries chill Katara to the bone, and she shudders, turning away from the girl who was much the same as her.

Katara manages to crawl to Zuko's side, tears pooling in her eyes, hands scrabbling at his robes; tearing them from his body because _she has to save him._ Sloppily, she manages to glove her hand in water, and thrusts it upon his broken body with desperation. Prayers fall from her numb lips; and she remembers that bargains never save anyone.

 _Please, La, help me save him. Give me the strength to bring him back; even though I couldn't save my mother._

When his eyes open- honeyed amber darkened with pain- she cries, openly. He lifts a hand to her face, weak, but moves the calloused pads of his fingertips against her wet cheeks gently. He thanks her, because she has saved his life. _He did not think himself worthy, but somehow, she did._

There is no ghost of a smile, there is nothing to conceal the rawness of his emotion. She barely manages to respond amongst all of the tears.

 _"-it's me who should be thanking you."_

She presses a kiss to his scarred cheek when she thinks he has fallen unconscious again.

His mouth curves; he will remember this kindness.

Later, the girl leaves white tulips by his bedside; because she has so much more than forgiven him.

* * *

 _peonies; healing._

* * *

It is almost too difficult for them to remember how they were before.

Even Aang cannot laugh quite the same way; Toph's teasing somehow falls a little flat. Sokka is quiet, holding Suki's hand with white knuckles, and he watches her with haunted eyes as if he fears she will disappear.

They look to Zuko for inspiration, and he delivers, his face a careful mask of assurance. He will be crowned soon, and he will try to make the world right, somehow, try to heal its deep wounds.

 _She sees the gentle way he feeds the turtleducks, the softness in his voice when he speaks to Aang. She watches him console them with promises of healing and care, watches him spar with the Avatar teasingly and teach her brother how to wield a pair of Dao swords._

But they also reach for Katara, as they are all only children, and she has been a mother to them in the absence of their families.

 _How many tears has she dried? Countless, endless; she is tired from bending all of their sorrows away._

All they have ever known is fear, and Katara knows it is her pounding heart that keeps her awake at night. The images of the bodies that fell before her never dim, the blood still stains the edges of her nightmares. She never feels safe in the silk bedclothes of the Fire Nation. She awakens with sweat dewing at her brow and cries in her raw throat, curling into herself as she struggles to forget the images of suffering that burden her young mind.

 _She spends her nights cradling them and nursing them back to health; encouraging them to eat and to talk and to be normal again._

 _But no one notices that she doesn't sleep._

She wonders when her strength will fail them. It is, after all, only a matter of time.

 _She picks at her food; listless, tired, and thin._

 _Zuko notices._

It is the young Fire Lord that comes to her when he hears the screams, forces his way into her room and crawls up onto the bed next to her. It is he who holds her to his chest, both of them crying for the childhoods that they have lost, the mothers that they will never know.

They question if this pain will ever fade. Katara talks to him of many things, her words a constant waterfall; and he is curious if anyone has actually listened to her before.

Sometimes, he falls asleep next to her, and he wonders if she minds.

She wakes to a room full of peonies and a note on her pillow, instructing her to eat a full meal- _or else._

She smiles.

* * *

 _lilac; first love.  
_

* * *

Aang hands her the clumsy bouquet of lilac he had plucked from the gardens with an awkward smile, his face flushed, ears pink. He is leaving today, to begin his search to find others like him. He intends to bring Katara, and this is his way of asking her.

"They mean first love. Which is what you are to me! My first love." He stumbles over the words, kicking the dirt and avoiding her gaze shyly. Katara does not take the flowers he offers.

Instead, she cups his round cheek in her palm for a moment, placing a solemn kiss there and stepping back.

 _We could have been so much more, she muses to herself, but this will get in the way of any friendship we could foster._

"You know I have to stay, Aang. I'm needed here." She has gained much of her old strength back, now, he notices. Shrugging, his face reddens in embarrassment.

"I wanted you to come," He says softly, picking at the stems. Katara knows.

She can see all the dreams he had for them glittering in his eyes, she can see how much he adores her. But she also knows he does not love her. Not _really._

 _She wants to tell him she can't love him; not because he isn't sweet and kind, but because they are much too different. She is on the cusp on womanhood, learning about the world around her and growing into herself._

 _He is just a boy that was thrust into this too soon; a boy that would prefer to ride the otter-penguins than to sit and talk with her._

"But I guess you have to do what you have to do. I don't want you to be unhappy," Wide, boyish eyes stare up at her, and she nods to him in thanks, her fingers fisting in her skirts.

She struggles with her words, then, because this is not all she came to tell him.

"Will Zuko make you happy?" Aang suddenly asks, his voice small, and the familiar name strikes her like a weapon. He wonders, then, if she will miss him.

The crumpled flowers he leaves behind make her chest ache with sadness.

* * *

 _red & white rose; unity.  
_

* * *

Zuko appoints her to his council immediately, when he hears that she will be staying with him for the time being.

Their friends have been scattered to the winds; Sokka and Suki returned to the Southern Water Tribe in hope of restoring it to a fragile strength, Aang and Appa have departed for the open skies ahead of them. Toph and Iroh have returned to the Jasmine Dragon in order to oversee the tentative peace between the Earth King and Fire Lord Zuko.

And they are all happy, he knows, but he can never guess at Katara's happiness. When he sees her, she offers a brief smile, a fleeting moment that soon passes through his fingers like sand.

He knows they are both busy.

Selfishly, he wants for them to talk again like they did right after the war; with no inhibitions, nothing besides the fledgling friendship between them. But there are papers to be signed and meetings to be held, and Katara is alone here, now.

After a time, it becomes clear to him that she misses her family, and he tasks her to a mission that he deems highly important.

"Chief Hakoda is rumored to be fierce and terrifying. I would only send my most capable of ambassadors to deal with such a highly respected warrior." Zuko teases her, and her face lights with joy as she considers seeing her family again for the first time in years.

 _But she doesn't want to leave him._

When he stands with her at the docks to say their goodbyes, she holds onto him for longer than she ever has before. He presses a kiss to her cheek, now, an echo of the one she gave him after the battle with his sister. Wordlessly, he hands her a single red and white rose, wrapped in their nation's colors.

 _He wants to beg her not to go, to stay here, with him. But he knows that is selfish, and so he releases her._

"We'll be unified, now. Our nations." Zuko feels the need to add the last two words, his ears turning a little pink around the edges. Katara rests her head against his chest and promises to come back.

As he waves her off, he wonders if she'll come back to him.

* * *

 _red rose; love.  
_

* * *

There are so many questions she has for him when she sees him next. They are two years older, and his hair has grown past his shoulders. His chin is lifted with confidence, now, his eyes no longer haunted with the ghosts of his past.

They stare at each other for a long moment, silent and very still, wondering if they are the same person they left behind.

Zuko extends his hand towards her, unraveling his clenched fingers to reveal a red rose somewhat crushed in his palm. Ruefully, he shrugs; he was nervous.

She scoops the bruised petals into her own hands and says nothing, at first. He looks away from her, thinking perhaps he is too late, perhaps she has found another..

The kiss she presses to his mouth silences his busy mind.

 _Because she thinks she has always loved him._


End file.
